


Equivalent exchange

by agreatskua



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24047035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agreatskua/pseuds/agreatskua
Summary: Immediately post-Brotherhood but pre regained vision
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Equivalent exchange

Blackness.

Roy knew by the faint tinkle of birdsong that it was just before dawn, but he was otherwise none the wiser, and the world was as black as his eyes had been before Truth had robbed him. He opened his eyes and even began the motions of shielding his face from the light before he remembered that there would be no light to shield.

He dropped his arm with a sigh, sat up, and slicked back the messy locks that hung over his forehead. Sweat held them back, and the sensation brought back the memories of the day before — Father was dead, the Elrics were alive, and Alphonse had even reacquired his original body. All that remained was...

"Riza."

Silence.

"Riza!"

Roy thought he heard a rustle and a groggy mumble, and he lowered his voice. "Is that you, Lieutenant?" He pawed his way to the edge of the bed and moved to follow the sound, stubbing his toe only once in the process.

"Mind your language, sir," came Riza's reponse to his colourful outburst of pain, and Roy stumbled as he collided with the edge of her bed. Her voice was faint and gravely, but it was unmistakably Riza.

"You—your throat. How is it?" Roy tested the bed with his hand, only to start and withdraw it when he felt not mattress, but the soft curve of a calf. "I—sorry," he said lamely.

 _If you could see yourself blushing, Roy,_ Riza thought to herself with a mixture of sadness and amusement. "It's alright, sir. Here, I've moved now... just sit where you are."

Roy lowered himself onto the edge of the bed with the apprehension of a child about to be scolded. "I'm pretty pathetic when you're not giving me directions, aren't I."

"I won't tell anyone, sir."

"Like they can't see it," Roy chuffed, returning his hair to its usual disarray with a swipe and frowning. "But now I can't see whether or not you're lying to me. How's your throat?"

"Stubborn as always, Colonel. Or shall I say Major General?"

"What?"

"Grumman. He kicked off his rule as Fuhrer with a round of promotions. You were sleeping when the announcement came in and he thought he'd let you keep at it for a while longer." Her voice trailed off slightly and she coughed.

"Just... don't talk, Lieutenant — I mean, er, what are you now? — no, don't answer. I'll find out. And you didn't answer my question." He was practically pouting.

Riza sighed her loss, and Roy flinched as she clasped his hand and raised it to the cuff of bandages around her throat. He could not truly gauge the damage blind, and if anything, the thickness of the canvas disturbed him.

"I'm sorry. Riza." Roy's hand lingered at her throat and he moved his fingers to tuck back a stray lock of her hair that tickled his knuckle.

"Sir..."

"Are you blushing? I can feel it."

"You must really have a fever, sir. You never call me Riza."

"I thought I'd try it out. That and I don't know what your rank is now," he countered with a trademark smirk. "You should try it sometime."

"Calling you Riza?" she mused. Roy felt the sarcasm in her tone even if he could not see her brows rise.

"Roy," he said stubbornly.

"I think Truth took some of your brains, too. Remember? I'm Riza."

"Shut up, Lieutenant." And as he gave her his best annoyed look, Roy leaned forward to drape his elbow over her good shoulder and pull her into a one-armed hug.

"Why would I need brains when I have your eyes?"


End file.
